


high rises and poor disguises

by playmaker



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Heroes & Heroines, Light Angst, M/M, Past Abuse, Psychic Abilities, Strangers to Lovers, Villains, idk yall tbh, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14587701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playmaker/pseuds/playmaker
Summary: Neil Josten was not a superhero. He just had a very bad habit of being in the wrong place at the right time.Jean Moreau was not a sidekickora hero. He was just trying to get through the day.[jeaneil superpower au]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck is this, you ask? good question  
> also stole the idea for neils power from nice from the anime hamatora lol

Neil Josten was not a _superhero_.

Frankly, the term itself seemed childish, and to call himself such a thing would be downright juvenile.

Sure, he had powers, and a well thought out disguise, but the disguise was purely so he could play around with his abilities and avoid the media nosing into his personal life. Or so he claimed.

Plus, Neil was a little more than lacking in the qualities of a hero. Charming, charismatic, selfless… none of it fit. Neil had a sharp touch paired with a sharper gaze, and he would sooner be cold, dead, and six feet under than do something for the benefit of a stranger, _especially_ if there were no gains for him.

So, yes, Neil Josten _was not a superhero_ , and he couldn’t stress that fact enough.

“You certainly have that martyr complex about you,” his roommate and best friend since childhood, Andrew Minyard, commented idly, not looking up from his place on the couch with his eyes trained on a book.

“Martyr complex my _ass_ ,” he spit, angrily stirring the milk into his coffee. “I just—”

Neil cut himself off, irritatedly tossing the metal spoon towards the general direction of their kitchen sink. “I end up in the middle of issues, and it’s easier to deal with them so I can get on with my life than wait for some self-proclaimed hero to show up.”

Neil said _hero_ like it was sour, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in distaste he never bothered to mask around Andrew.

His roommate in question finally looked up from his book, raising his pale eyebrows at Neil. “What, like _Kid Flamingo?_ ” Andrew asked, his voice lilting in mockery as he spoke.

“God, don’t even get me started on him. He has, like, the _lamest_ fucking ability ever, and he’s some pimply fifteen year old at best.”

Andrew turned his attention back to his book, knowing that when Neil said _don’t even get me started_ , it meant _I’m going to rant for ten minutes because I hate shitty superheroes_.

“Seriously, the fact all he does is summon hordes of flamingos is bad enough, but where the hell did he even get a power like that?”

“Bitten by a radioactive pink bird on a family trip to South America?” Andrew suggested drily.

“Very funny. Honestly, the only hero in this city worth his hype is Achilles. Or the one he sometimes teams up with, Lady Styx.”

Andrew tilted his head. “Fan of _The Iliad_ , Josten? Their names still suck.”

Neil snorted in agreement. “Yeah, but what superhero names don’t?”

Andrew hummed, and the conversation was over

 

* * *

 

 

Neil’s power was one of the better ones. Supernatural abilities were by no means common, but it also wasn’t exactly a surprise if you bump into someone on the street who can talk to birds or see ghosts.

Los Angeles had a roster of a whopping forty-eight known heroes in flashy capes, bouncing between high rises and fighting crime. Of course, with heroes come villains, but none of them were exactly a threat to the wellbeing of regular citizens. It was all flashy theatrics for the sake of showing off. Nine times out of ten, the villain and hero knew each other outside of gaudy costume, and the cheesy catchphrases and bold claims in broad daylight were scripted.

It was all boring, pointless, and _completely_ immature.

The media ate it all up, of course, because that’s what the media is good for.

_Kid Flamingo and Killer Crocs™ face off in a feathery shoe-down!_

Headlines like that. Honestly, Neil found it nauseating.

But still, Neil Josten had powers, and his powers were strong. They had been both a blessing and a curse during his childhood, but ultimately, his ability was what led him to meeting Andrew, and by extension his Foxes, years later.

Put simply, Neil had the ability to visually perceive sound waves, and in turn, travel in distributed frequencies. Essentially, he could move at the speed of sound by using sound as a medium to transport his body. There were many ways he could apply this, the most useful to date being through the sound waves of claps or fingersnaps, the latter being easier. When Neil snapped his fingers, the snap would create a pitch frequency that travelled in circular sound waves that he could see and travel through. Sure, he could only travel as far as the sound wave, but that wasn’t anything another snap of his fingers couldn’t fix.

Honestly, it was completely useless in everyday life. Sure, he could be in the kitchen from the living room with just a flick of his wrist, but really, what was the point? Walking didn’t take that long.

In his earlier years of adolescence, his ability was the greatest possible gift for someone on the run. It was what kept him alive, and what inevitably caused his mother’s death.

Now, with both his parents dead and nothing but a day job at a department store, it had no uses.

Still, he kept in the habit of practicing with it, just in case, and when he and Andrew moved to L.A. to change up the pace, he had to take up a disguise while practicing, considering Los Angeles was possibly the _least_ private city in the world.

Andrew hated it at first. He didn’t handle heat well, and he had always had issues with the west coast. However, within two weeks— which included him disappearing for nearly three days to resolve aforementioned issues, as well as conveniently finding a nightclub that suited his tastes— Andrew had decided they had both lived in worse places. Neil agreed.

The nightclub Andrew had found was a flashy yet not overly crowded joint called _Eden’s Twilight_ , and, as luck would have it, Nicky already knew of the place, singing only high praises.

Andrew had been, for the most part, ignoring Nicky’s invitations to hang out since they moved. Nicky was residing in Los Angeles while his long time boyfriend, Erik, was volunteering in New Zealand for some nature camp, and the news that his favourite cousin (and his honorary cousin) would be living in the same city delighted him to no end. However, actually convincing the two to humour him provided to be more difficult than Nicky had been expecting.

It wasn’t until the nightclub was mentioned that Andrew, and Neil by association, agreed to the outing.

The two of them met Nicky at a diner called Sweetie’s only a few blocks from Eden’s on a Friday evening for dinner before heading to their final destination. Predictably, Nicky greeted both Neil and Andrew with a tight half-hug, an arm around each of their shoulders. Thankfully, for the sake of Nicky’s wellbeing, as well as Andrew and Neil’s sanity, the hug was brief, and Nicky filled dinner with light conversation without asking too many prying questions.

The moment the three of them entered the club, the bartender, a man with dark skin and a dazzling smile, greeted them cheerfully. He was looking at Andrew, but his words were directed to Nicky.

“Glad to see you back! Friends?”

Nicky gestured broadly to the other two, smiling just as wide.

“Roland, this is Andrew, my cousin, and Neil, our friend from way back.”

Neil waved slightly, feeling like the odd one out considering he knew both Andrew and Nicky already knew Roland, even if Nicky wasn’t aware of that.

Roland leaned forward onto the bar, his elbows supporting him. He tilted his head at Neil with a friendly smile.

“A pleasure, Neil,” he said before shifting his attention. “Cousins, though? Andrew obviously doesn’t get as much sun.”

Nicky clammed up for a brief second, expecting Andrew to react badly. When he simply rolled his eyes, Nicky’s look turned confused as his gaze flicked between Roland and his cousin.

“You two know each other?” he asked dumbly. Roland laughed, a pure, full sound.

“He’s a regular,” he replied with a shrug and the hint of a smile.

 _Oh,_ Neil thought, making the deeper connection a moment too late. **_Oh_** _, okay._ _So they’re hooking up._

It wasn’t a surprise, really. Andrew was a sucker for a pretty face, even if he wasn’t the type to do serious relationships. Not that Neil could judge— in all twenty years of his life, he’d had almost _no_ relationships at all, unless you count drunk flings or the brief, awkward time he and Andrew had dated in high school.

Neil largely tuned out the conversation, only paying attention again when Andrew snapped his fingers in front of Neil’s eyes, making a _let’s go_ gesture as he followed Nicky to a booth, a tray of drinks in his free hand.

 

For the most part, the night passed uneventfully, nothing but a blur of drinks and lights and thumping bass. At some point, Andrew disappeared, no doubt to see Roland, and Neil guarded the table as Nicky danced. When Neil finally did catch a glimpse of Nicky, he was near the edge of the dancefloor, decidedly _not_ dancing.

He had his hands raised in a placating gesture, and Neil could tell from his expression that he was doing his trademark nervous laughter in an attempt to diffuse whatever situation he had found himself in the middle of. Suddenly, a hand attached to a _really fucking buff_ arm twisted itself into the collar of Nicky’s shirt.

Neil flew to his feet and shoved through the crowd, making his way into Nicky’s line of sight. After some subtle arm waving, Nicky’s frantic eyes caught his.

 _Help me, oh my god,_ he mouthed, pointing desperately to the man who was sneering something at Nicky that he was obviously not listening to.

Neil pointed to the direction of the door with one hand while cupping the other over his mouth like a microphone, which, honestly, was pointless, considering he was only mouthing words and not actually vocalising.

 _Outside,_ he mouthed back, hardly acknowledging Nicky’s nod and nervous swallow as he directed his attention back to the man trying to intimidate him into a puddle, likely saying something about taking the exchange outside with his tone dripping sickly sweet.

Neil all but bolted back to the table, grabbing his bag from the bench and booking it to a side exit. Once he was safely in the quiet alley, he frantically emptied his bag on the ground, pulling on the long deep orange coat he always carried with him, as well as the cat-eared headphones. He slipped the mask on last.

(They were painted like fox ears, because Matt thought it was hilarious, and who better to pick part of his disguise than Boyd? The coat was courtesy of Allison— over the top, expertly tailored, and painfully stylish, while the mask was a gift from Renee. It was silver and the same dark amber of the jacket, the cool metal swirled into intricate patterns, covering his entire face, save for his mouth.)

The entire getup was almost crippling in it’s embarrassment, but Neil knew from one look he wouldn’t be able to take the guy bothering Nicky without some sort of handicap, and he would really rather _not_ burst into whatever Andrew and Roland were doing just to get Andrew to save Nicky’s hide.

Neil would take the internal embarrassment that comes with his anonymity over cheesy hero publicity any day.

The headphones stayed around his neck as he whirled around the corner, and — okay, those were five _really huge dudes_ surrounding Nicky, and definitely not just one. The crack of their knuckles and the glint of their eyes as they cornered Nicky was the only tell Neil needed to know they intended to cause trouble.

Their backs were to Neil, and Nicky made eye contact with him over their massive shoulders the moment Neil rounded the corner.

Nicky, ever the dramatic, placed a hand on his forehead as if he would faint, speaking louder than necessary as he supported himself on the wall.

“Oh, my!” he cried, making the group than was closing in on him pause in brief confusion. “I’m a fair lad in distress, if _only_ there was a hero to swoop in and _save_ me!”

Nicky’s grin glinted at Neil from behind his arm, not at all worried about his well being. Neil rolled his eyes. Nicky would need to do better if he hoped to rope him into that level of theatrics.

Nicky’s distress call, if it could be called that, attracted the attention of the two dozen or so people in the queue for the club about fifty yards away.

One of the men spit on the concrete, taking a haughty step towards Nicky, who was smiling at him, playing oblivious.

“You’re shit out of luck then, you fucking _fag—_ ” He practically snarled the last word, his fist wrapping itself in Nicky’s already wrinkled shirt and practically lifting him off the ground, and, well, that just wouldn’t do.

Neil sighed. He snapped the headphones onto his ears, letting the music blast and drown out all other sound before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

With his eyes still shut, Neil flexed his fingers at his side before snapping once.

When he opened his eyes, it was like everything was frozen. The scene was completely greyscale, the only colour coming from the bright red rippling of the sound wave that emanated from his snap. Neil tensed before forcing himself to move, following the wave to the end. Before anyone could blink, Neil was in front of the one grabbing Nicky, a grin on his face and his legs bent like he was about to run the 100m.

 _Snap._ Neil drew a fist back, letting it follow the curve of the wave until it connected with the man’s face, sending him stumbling.

 _Snap._ He spun, his leg following the momentum as the heel of his boot cracked against bone.

 _Snap._ Nicky was smiling. Neil was, too. He followed the sound wave behind another of the group, jamming his boot behind the man’s knee.

 _Snap._ Neil barely registered Andrew mid-exit from the club, a cigarette dangling from his lips and his eyebrows raised at Neil, who had the guts— or the deathwish— to wink.

 _Snap._ Three out of five, down without even knowing why.

 _Snap._ Andrew was intimidating the ones Neil had landed hits on into staying put. As always, his intimidation involved a sick flash of silver and a promise of pain.

_Snap, snap, snap._

It was like someone toying with a record player, speeding it up until it was nothing but a high pitched trill, then slowing it down down to a near-standstill, bouncing between frequencies at rapid-fire pace. Within what was only fifteen seconds to everyone else, but closer to five or ten minutes for Neil, all of the men were battered and had backed off, a twisted look of fear and anger in their eyes.

Andrew made a _shoo_ gesture at them, and they all stumbled away, throwing creative strings of swears over their shoulders. Neil slipped the headphones off, resting them around his neck.

“My _hero_ !” Nicky wailed, throwing his arms dramatically over Neil, who pried them off. It was only then that he noticed the crowd around the queue absolutely _gaping_ at him, and no, that wasn’t something he was willing to deal with.

With two successive snaps, Neil was back in the deserted alley, seemingly disappearing before everyone’s eyes. He stuffed his disguise back into his bag, slipping back into the club through the side entrance.

He maneuvered his way through the thrum of bodies before, his breathing only a little laboured, before slipping out the front door to join Nicky and Andrew as if that whole ordeal never happened.

The crowd was humming excitedly, chattering amongst themselves about what they had just witnessed, but no one was paying attention to the scene where it transpired.

Andrew regarded him, and then Nicky.

“An explanation, perhaps?”

Neil huffed.

“I’d like one too, Hemmick. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you get into trouble on purpose just so I can save your ass.”

Nicky grinned sheepishly.

“Not on purpose, but I really never get sick of watching you in action.”

Andrew took a drag of his now-lit cigarette, scowling slightly.

“Whatever. Bye Nicky, we’re going home.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Neil slept in to just past one in the afternoon. It was a rarity for him, but in his defense, he _was_ up until nearly four. Plus, using his ability always made him sleep more heavily.

Neil padded out of his bedroom, not bothering to brush his teeth yet, and made his way to where Andrew had surely ended up already.

“Neil,” Andrew said the moment he stepped onto the balcony. “Browsed the internet recently? Checked the news of L.A.’s hottest heroes?”

His legs were between the rails, hanging over the edge. Andrew’s feet were kicking slightly, and Neil smiled inwardly at the kidlike action.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” he said, mirroring something Andrew had told him years ago. Andrew rolled his eyes, offering Neil his lighter.

“That’s a no, then? Make a habit.”

Neil lit his own cigarette before passing the lighter back to Andrew, sliding his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. It blinked to life, and Neil opened his news app, switching the feed to local stories. After only two articles down, Neil’s blood turned to slush.

 

_New hero makes an appearance! Witnesses and fans have already taken to Twitter for countless polls on what hero name fits the flashy rookie. One of the top two name candidates is Shutterfly, on account of his apparent ability to flicker in and out of sight— much like a camera shutter— while moving at unmatched speeds. The competing hero name is Foxglove, which seems to be a reference to the hero’s disguise and dangerous aura. The rookie made his debut late last night in the Santa Monica area as he single handedly took out five men who were stirring up trouble outside of a local nightclub._

_Witness videos have gone viral in several different L.A. social media communities._

_Where do you stand in the name war? Shutterfly, or Foxglove? Let us know in the comment thread below!_

**_[Video Link]_ **

 

The two of them had made it back inside while Neil’s eyes scanned the article. Andrew easily settled himself on the armchair, while Neil stood in the middle of the room, too distracted with his phone.

When he finished reading, Neil tossed his phone onto the couch and sighed, flopping onto the cushions after it.

“I genuinely cannot even begin to decide where to start with that,” he said, exhausted.

Andrew snorted.

“Why not start with _Shutterfly_?” he asked mockingly.

Neil groaned, wilting into the couch and shoving himself facedown into the armrest.

“Or not,” he replied, voice muffled from where it was shoved between cushions. Neil rolled onto his side, his cheek squished against his arm. “Both names are stupid, but Shutterfly just _sucks_. Not that it matters. No one knows it’s me, and it’s not like I have any big plans to get into the crime fighting scene. Superheroes are embarrassing.”

Andrew slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, attention mostly focused on a novel— a new one this time, since he goes through them like children’s books.

“I’m surprised no one has called you yet,” Andrew commented, his tone the furthest thing from surprised as possible. “It’s been at least twelve hours.”

As if on cue, Neil’s phone _pinged_ twice from underneath him. He exhaled, slowly reaching under his stomach to pry it out, eyes trained on the blank TV.

Sure enough, it was a text from Matt.

 

 **Matt B. [1:27p.m.]:** _FOXGLOVE OMG HI IM SUCH A BIG FAN_

 **Matt B. [1:27p.m.]:** _dan thinks shutterfly is hilarious but we’re #teamfoxglove (so is renee) and also dan says shes proud of you xx cute costume whered you find those ears ;)_

 

Neil stared at the texts, hoping that if he blinked, they’d disappear. Unfortunately, it seemed he was never so lucky.

 

 **[1:29p.m.]:** _thanks, i think. i regret everything i have done in life to end up where i currently am._

 **Matt B. [1:30p.m.]:** _lmao. its not all bad tho, is it? i mean, one of ur idols publicly recognized you & it wasnt even to say ur personality is a nightmare! _

**[1:30p.m.]:** _what_

 

Just as Neil hit send, another text came in— this time from Nicky, making his phone buzz in his hands.

 **Nicky H. [1:30p.m.]:** _(link preview): EXCLUSIVE- Lady Styx on new hero_

 **Nicky H. [1:30p.m.]:** _NEIL JOSTEN I AM SCREAMING BUT IN A GOOD WAY im 2 lazy 2 open the emoji keyboard but imagine every heart & shocked face emoji Twice. thnk me l8r _

 

Neil tapped out a brief _i’d rather not imagine that thanks,_ before clicking on the link, his brows drawn together. A video popped up on his screen and Neil hurried to turn up his volume, trying to miss as little as possible. As the title promised, it was a short interview between a reporter and Lady Styx next to a street, a gathering of fans expressing their love for the hero in the background as the reporter did her best to speak over them.

“—you’ve seen the video of the rookie hero, yes?”

The reporter directed the mic at Lady Styx, who grinned brightly, laughing a bit.

“Who hasn’t?” she joked, the breeze making her deep brown hair flutter from under her bold gunmetal grey mask. “Achilles and I tore that video to pieces all morning and, if I may be frank, I wouldn’t call the kid a rookie.”

“How do you mean?” the reporter asked, eager to milk as much from one of L.A.’s top heroes as she could.

“Just look at him— I mean, his ability is _incredible_ , and he knows how to use it. He’s skilled, obviously, so my guess is either he’s been working in the shadows, or he’s new to the city.”

The reporter nodded seriously, leaning a bit closer to Lady Styx.

“And what do you think that means for the existing hero scene in Los Angeles?”

“Honestly, only good would come of him putting his quirks to use. Achilles and I would both love to work with him sometime. He could really change the game around here, especially with— well, he’d be a good fit, is all.”

Lady Styx finished with a grin, but Neil didn’t miss her cutting herself off. Apparently, neither did the reporter. However, as she opened her mouth, Lady Styx was already waving, mentioning something about duties, before tapping the side of her nose and dissolving into heavy grey shadow and dissipating. Dramatic as a hero always was.

 

The reporter had started to say something else to the camera, but Neil had already closed out of the video. He dropped his phone onto the floor, letting his arm hang limply. Andrew had his head tilted towards Neil and was staring at him.

“What?” Neil asked, suddenly feeling very strange about the whole hero thing.

“One would think you’d be bouncing off walls. _Achilles and I would both love to work with him sometime!_ ” Andrew pitched up his voice an octave, a poor imitation of Lady Styx’s good natured cheer.

“They’re _cool_ ,” Neil whined. “and they’re the only heroes in L.A. who don’t have shitty powers. That doesn’t mean I want to be their sidekick.”

“But you’d make such a good doormat for the real heroes.”

Neil laughed dryly, reaching for his phone.

“They wish. Plus, you’re the only one I’d team up with.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, putting down his book and standing.

“The chances of me being a shitty superhero are infinitely lower than you think.”

Neil grinned, rolling off the couch and following Andrew to the kitchen to get himself some coffee.

“You’re right, you’d make a way better evil mastermind,” Neil jeered, his empty mug clinking against the fake granite.

Andrew withdrew a tub of ice cream from the freezer and situated himself on the countertop. He fixed Neil with a humourless look.

“Don’t tempt me. I’d love to kick your ass.”

Neil shrugged, hopping up onto the counter across from Andrew.

“You could try. Hey, did you hear Lady Styx stop mid sentence like that? What do you think she was going to say?”

“Nice segway,” Andrew replied sarcastically. “And I heard it, but I don’t care.”

With that, the conversation ended, and Neil was left to ruminate on his thoughts in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, andrew has powers, yes, so does nicky, and matt, and dan, and renee, and almost all the foxes.  
> also, andrew and neil are basically meant to be together but who they are as people in this au allow it to only be as best friends, and theyre perfectly happy and content w that!  
> next chapter: trojans (& kev)!  
> lmk of any errors and please tell me what you think!  
> life has been very (very rough lately but i wrote this whole thing ages ago so it shouldnt be too long of a wait unless i off myselfv ro smth-- also, itll be about 4 or 5 chapters, i havent decided how il split it up yet)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> srry for the wait ive been in hell

“Babe, seriously. You’ve watched that video at least eighty times now, there’s no way you don’t have it memorized. Enough’s enough.”

Laila Dermott plucked her girlfriend’s phone from her hands, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sara Alvarez let out a cry of indignation, looking up at Laila from her seat at the kitchen table, a look of betrayal paired with her small frown.

“Look at him though! Five guys in under fifteen seconds, flat. It’s incredible!”

Laila rolled her eyes, both at Alvarez, and Jeremy Knox calling  _ that’s what she said _ from the adjoining living room.

“You could take twice as many in half that time, it’s really nothing special,” she told her, only a little sick of Alvarez’s obsession with the rookie.   
Alvarez grinned at the compliment, winking at Laila.

“You know it. But still, I definitely don’t think a thirty second video really shows what this guy can do. Plus, he’s obviously not in it for the publicity, with the way bolted the moment he saw people recording him. Jere, what d’you think?”

Alvarez spoke the last part louder, leaning back in her chair and directing the question at her other roommate and crime fighting partner, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes fixed on his video game.

Jeremy hummed, not bothering to pause the game.

“I think his ability is almost alarmingly strong. Along with his speed— or teleportation? It’s hard to tell. Anyway, he’s not just fast. His hits landed way harder than a normal person’s would, especially for his height. He seriously can’t be any taller than five-two.”

“See?” Alvarez gloated, sticking her tongue out at Laila. “Jeremy thinks he’s cool.”

Jeremy shrugged a little helplessly, finally pausing his game and shifting to face his friends.

“I didn’t say cool. I think he’s dangerous.” Jeremy frowned slightly, momentarily lost in thought. “He knows what he’s doing, and the fact we’ve never seen him before is a little weird. I’d like to fight him, at least once.”

Laila barked out a laugh, resting her arm on Alvarez’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit, mister hero. Fighting the rookies to show them their place. Who knew Achilles was so cold blooded?”   
Jeremy grinned at Laila.

“I don’t think I could win,” he confessed with a shrug. “It’s why I’d like to.”

Both Laila and Alvarez blinked at him, surprised. It was no secret that Achilles was the reigning top hero on the West coast. The only fight he had ever lost was against the hero prodigy from the east,  _ The Raven King _ , in a formal arena match. Even then, Jeremy only lost because he fought fair.

“What about both of us against him?” Alvarez asked, morbid curiosity leaking into her question.

Jeremy frowned again.

“That wouldn’t be fair. Two one one isn’t fair, especially if it’s us. Also, I think Foxglove’s, like, fifteen.”

Alvarez raised her eyebrows.

“Team Foxglove, mister I-Want-To-Fight-A-Fifteen-Year-Old?”

Jeremy smiled sheepishly.

“Shutterfly is embarrassing to say out loud. It sounds like something a middle schooler made up. Plus I think Foxglove suits his demeanour better.”

Laila sighed a little wistfully, draping herself over her girlfriend melodramatically.

“Why am I the only  _ normal _ one in this house? I feel so left out of all this hero stuff.”

Alvarez pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek and grinned.

“It’s okay, babe. You’re like the Iliad manager, or something— we’d be a mess without your brains. Helen, because you’re what I’m fighting for.”

Alvarez and Laila dissolved into giggles and soft kisses, immediately causing Jeremy to turn back to his game, his nose scrunched up in childish disgust.

* * *

Jean moreau did not enjoy the concept of superheroes.

Partly because of his own ability, and spending his adolescence at Evermore, but mostly because it seemed pointless.

Heroes were the only reason villains existed, and Jean was a firm believer that you didn’t have to be a villain to be evil. He had plenty experience to back that notion.

Evermore, the most prestigious academy for the  _ gifted _ in North America, protected the identities of their students until graduation. Because of that, the world did not know about Jean. The world did, however, know about Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day. Jean was meant to be one of them—  _ bought _ to be one of them— but he was the lucky one, he supposed. He was a success story to those who really knew what being part of the Perfect Court entailed.

_ Success story _ . Jean rolled the phrase around in his mouth, his chest hollowing at the thought. Those who knew about his existence and the nature of the nest thought that everything was okay, now that he was out. Jean moreau was not  _ okay _ .

The only exception would be the Trojans— Laila Dermott, Sara Alvarez, and Jeremy Knox— and Renee Walker. Kevin more than likely had an inkling to how not okay Jean was, considering his own past, but Kevin didn’t know what Riko was like once he left his side a year before graduation. 

It was uncomfortable enough for Jean that Kevin was around so often and that they were no longer connected through Riko. Now, with Jean living with the Trojans and Kevin dating Jeremy, he saw more of the man the he imagined he would, and a softer side than he felt particularly comfortable witnessing. 

Jean still harboured a small spark of resentment for the man, and while he knew it wasn’t entirely fair, he also understood it wasn’t that  _ unfair,  _ given the circumstances Kevin left him in. Even so, they were… friends, he supposed. In the same way Jean was friends with Jeremy, or Laila, or Alvarez. Friends, but not  _ friends _ .

Still— Evermore was a thing of the past for Jean. A recurring nightmare, but one that couldn’t touch him while he was awake.

Jean was meant to take his place as Riko and Kevin’s sidekick, their  _ dog _ , after their debut, but Renee Walker, a saviour with kind eyes and blood in her teeth, came for him after Kevin left.

She had connections, she said. Kevin told her about him, she said. Renee Walker spirited Jean away to California and placed him under the protection of the Trojans.  _ To heal _ , was what she had told him.

The Trojans took some getting used to. Of course, he had heard about Achilles and Lady Styx during his stay at Evermore. They were a subject of scorn, if what Riko had to say was any indication.  _ Overly ardent heroes who don’t understand how to keep scum in their place,  _ Riko spat.  _ Villains need to bleed to learn. Isn’t that right, Jean? _

Jean shook his head, the thoughts falling away with the movement. Riko was on the other side of the country now, and the Trojans promised him protection. He had to put his trust in them.

And he did, for the most part. Jeremy played a hand in rehabilitating Jean into a relatively normal life, and although he had no plans to ever use his powers again, Alvarez showed him that any ability could be used for good, no matter the stigma.

The both of them had what people would consider villain’s powers. Alvarez with her shadow manipulation, and Jean with his marionette ability. They were similar, in some ways, but Alvarez could use hers more creatively.

She could dissolve into shadows, travel through them unseen, and, if a person’s shadow connected to hers somehow, she could directly manipulate a target and control their body. Alvarez was practically unstoppable in darkness.

Jean could do the same. The controlling, that is. The condition was that he had to touch the target, only once, only lightly. From then on, he could choose to have absolute command. The target would do anything he told them to, no matter the cost. It was trickier than Alvarez’s ability in that way. While she only had control of a subject’s body, they still had control of their mind and heart. Jean could command into silence and submission. 

Having lived most of his life miserable and bloodied under the control of another person, Jean had understandably grown to resent his power and the freedom it stole from others.

So, no. Jean Moreau did not enjoy the concept of heroes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little curious about the rookie Jeremy and Alvarez wouldn’t shut up about. 

After all, he  _ did _ grow up in an environment that honed and ridiculed people’s abilities; he knew when someone was strong.

The rookie— Foxglove, Jeremy kept saying— was a far cry from what the media was calling him. Newbie, up and coming, things like that. There was a practiced ease to his fighting, and a stuttering fluidity like a dance duet with no partner. Jean would not admit he had probably watched the now viral video almost as much as Alvarez had.

However, in the case of Renee Walker, he didn’t really have to admit a thing. She had an eye for other people’s curiosity, frustrating as it was.

“You’ve seen the new hero,” she said simply over her chai latte, neither a question nor an accusation.

They were at a coffee shop downtown for a visit before Renee went off New York with her girlfriend for some gala that required the Reynolds name.

Jean didn’t dislike Allison, but he was… wary. Her wits were just as sharp as Renee’s, but she was far less cautious of another human being’s fragility when speaking. He wasn’t intimidated, exactly— being raised in the nest as number three meant few could hold a candle to him, and that wasn’t Jean gloating, but simply a fact— he was just far less partial to confrontation.

“Yes,” Jean answered honestly since there was no point dancing around the subject. “Though I doubt  _ new  _ is exactly the right word to describe him.”

Renee smiled, her hands wrapped around her mug.

“I agree. New to the area, possibly, but certainly not to fighting.”

Jean rested his chin in his hand, tilting his head to gaze out the window.

“Few people with an ability that strong are strangers to violence.”

Renee’s smile stayed, and Jean knew it was one of understanding. After all, she was much the same.

The enhancement-type abilities were the most common— above average strength, speed, senses— but those with something more peculiar were often targeted. Or in the case of Renee’s past, targeted others.

She was a rare mix of enhancer and summoner, though it was a well kept secret since she essentially rebranded her entire existence. Renee was frighteningly capable, and Jean hoped to never cross blades with her, metaphorically or literally.

“He seems to want to stay out of the spotlight,” Renee said after a moment, surprising Jean.

“You’re rarely interested in such things,” he said instead of following the direction Renee had been aiming the conversation. 

She shrugged lightly, sipping her tea.

“Just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you know more about this than you’re implying,” he replied honestly, raising his eyebrows at her.

She smiled sweetly at him, finishing her cup before standing.

“It’s been lovely, Jean, but I have a flight to catch and an impatient girlfriend to pick up.”

Jean rolled his eyes. It was so very  _ Renee  _ to only reveal what she liked and then shift course to leave the other party in wonderment.

“Go then,” he told her without heat. “Are you still calling on Friday?”

He already knew the answer, of course.

“As always.”

* * *

 

 

Neil was getting sick of seeing his own face, masked as it may have been, plastered throughout every news feed in Los Angeles.

Honestly, it was a thirty second video. What could possibly be so interesting in half a minute that it kept the attention of every follower of the hero scene in L.A.?

Neil blamed Lady Styx. After her interview, the video has skyrocketed in views and shares. Sure, he looked up to her, but it wasn’t like he actually got to  _ meet  _ her, so he really saw no merit in the entire situation.

Neil was currently sprawled out on the couch, wallowing in regret as he scrolled aimlessly through his twitter feed, his thumb swiping faster every time he saw  _ that _ video.

“Quit pouting,” Andrew said from the doorway to the kitchen. “We’re supposed to go see her Highness and his raven friend, and I am not going to start being the talkative one in this dynamic today. Or ever.”

Neil rolled deeper into the couch and groaned.

“I don’t want to see Kevin right now,” he mumbled.

“Oh? I thought you two were good pals, bonding over shitty heroes with shittier abilities.”

“Gross, first of all, no. Second of all, you know how I feel about ravens.”

Andrew just shrugged, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“He’s supposedly an escapee, like Kevin. Renee trusts him.”

Neil sighed, hauling himself off the couch and trudging into the kitchen for his water bottle in the fridge.

“I guess. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

Andrew was seemingly done with the conversation, grabbing his keys and smokes off of the counter before pulling on his shoes and heading for the door. 

Neil knew if he took too long to follow, he’d leave him at the apartment. As much as he didn’t want to go out, he’d never hear the end of it from Kevin, especially since today was the day he was finally bringing along the other raven.

Neil had little to fear these days, but he still wasn’t fond of the idea of mingling with previous ravens, especially considering Kevin had yet to learn the details of Neil’s past.

He got his water bottle and pocketed his phone before heading out the door after Andrew, flicking the light out as he went.

* * *

 

 

They decided to meet at a park, far enough away from the crowds that they had some semblance of privacy, but still in a public space.

Kevin was there first, as usual, and next to him stood a tall man was dark hair haphazardly pushed away from his forehead.

Kevin caught Andrew and Neil out of the corner of his eye as they approached, halting whatever he had been saying to his friend and raising a hand in greeting.

Andrew saluted boredly and Neil waved back before slipping his hand back into his hoodie pocket.

“Neil, Andrew,” Kevin said when they were close enough to hear, nodding to each of them. “This is Jean Moreau. We grew up together.”

Andrew raised his eyebrows.

“A delicate way of putting it,” he remarked.

Kevin grimaced and Neil didn’t miss the sour huff Jean let out.

“You know Kevin,” Neil said. “Delicate as a flower.”

“Oh, shut up, I didn’t bring you here to make fun of me.”

Neil bit down on the argument that Kevin didn’t have the power to summon them whenever he felt like it.

“Jean,” Kevin said, recovering. “This is Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard.”

Jean Moreau blatantly looked the both of them up and down, disdain barely masked on his face. The thing was, Jean was objectively  _ very _ pretty, and it pissed Neil off a bit. He was tall and lean, his hair was naturally that dark, his skin fair and smooth, and even the dark circles under his long eyelashes were appealing in their own way. He had a mole above his right eyebrow. Neil wasn’t sure exactly why he decided to catalogue that specific fact.

Once Jean was seemingly done with sizing the two of them up (not that it took long— Neil and Andrew were similar in height to a couple middle schoolers), he turned to Kevin.

“ _ Do they have abilities that can be considered remotely worthwhile? _ ” he asked Kevin, Neil immediately frowning at the French he had spoken.

Andrew and Kevin both immediately glanced at Neil, both knowing he spoke French as well. Obviously Jean was unaware. 

Kevin looked nervous, while Andrew was more wondering if Neil would translate.

“ _ I’m sure you’d love to know, _ ” Neil butt in, tilting his chin up at Jean.

Jean frowned, taken aback (much to Neil’s petty delight), and looked at Neil. 

“ _ Your French is atrocious. You sound like a Spanish cow. _ ”

Kevin coughed, poorly trying to cover up a laugh, and even Neil cracked a smile.

“My apologies,” Neil responded politely in English, knowing Andrew was getting irritated by not being able to understand the conversation. “My only conversation partner is Kevin, so you can understand how difficult it is to maintain my language skills.”

Kevin let out a shout of indignation, but Neil was more focused on the way Jean’s mouth quirked up into a small smile.

“In that case, all is forgiven.”

Andrew, obviously fed up, crossed his arms and cleared his throat.

“Are we just here to speak in tongues and laugh at Kevin’s expense?”

Kevin frowned at Andrew.

“I don’t know why I expected you to be civil. But no, I actually wanted to talk to you about something important.” Kevin turned back to Jean. “You asked if they had worthwhile abilities, yes? That’s why I wanted to introduce them to you.”

Neil’s eyebrows shot up.

“I hope this isn’t going where it sounds like it’s going.”

“It is,” Kevin ventured nervously. “I’m sure you caught the hiccup in the interview. Neil, you’re better than anyone at deconstructing abilities and attacks. Andrew, I  _ know _ you don’t like using your ability, but—”

“Absolutely not,” Andrew interrupted. 

“The city— maybe even the  _ country _ is at stake!” Kevin cried, pleading. “You’re the only person I know whose ability would give us the upper hand! Neil, tell me you’ll agree.”

“I will not be your collateral to convince Andrew,” Neil replied shortly. “You haven’t even told us what we’d be agreeing to.”

“Right, that’s the thing. There’s a group of underground villains, and none of the heroes or higher ups know what they’re plotting, but we  _ do _ know they’ve been going around picking off heroes one by one. They’ve been inactive since the video of the rookie went viral, but Achilles thinks they’re planning something big.”

“Do we know any of their abilities?” Neil asked quickly before Andrew could derail the conversation.

Kevin shook his head solemnly.

“We think two of them have similar abilities, since incidents with the same signature would occur almost simultaneously in completely different areas. Heroes have been turning up dead with no defensive wounds, having died from exsanguination. We aren’t exactly sure what the ability is, but the lack of a fight suggests something dangerous.”

Neil froze. 

“We refuse. Andrew, let’s go.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow at Neil, who was already turning to leave. He shrugged, nodded to Jean and a shell-shocked Kevin, and turned to follow Neil.

“Neil,  _ wait _ ! Just think about it, plea—”

“ _ Goodbye _ , Kevin,” Neil called angrily over his shoulder. “Nice meeting you, Moreau.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk of any errors i didnt proofread,, sorry!  
> comments/kudos appreciated!  
> shoutout to whoever can figure out whos in the villain group


End file.
